


The Five-Finger Conspiracy

by magician



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Bingo, Bingo Card Challenge, Challenge Response, Family, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 11:39:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13763337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magician/pseuds/magician
Summary: A crime has been committed. Simon wants answers.





	The Five-Finger Conspiracy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2018 Sentinel Bingo Challenge for the prompt "theft".

 

 

 

    

"Sandburg!" Simon's bellow was particularly loud this morning and it made everyone in the bullpen wince. "Get your ass in here!"  
  
Blair squared his shoulders and headed for his boss's office. He opened the door and walked in. "You bellowed, Mon Capitaine?"  
  
Simon glared at his newest detective. "Are you responsible for this?"  
  
"For what, Captain," Blair answered with a frown.  
  
Simon pointed to his Spanish cedar humidor, which was open. Blair looked down, then did a double-take and looked again. The box was open and empty, except for a package of Nicorette gum. Blair snorted.  
  
"This constitutes theft, you know," Simon growled.  
  
"Petty theft, maybe. It hardly rises to the status of a Major Crime."  
  
"Oh yeah? I had a Cuban in there--that's not petty."  
  
Blair tapped his chin, like he was giving the situation serious thought. "Well, I'm great at reports. Did you want me to write this up? I'm sure I could put a spin on why the Captain of Major Crime has contraband in his office. Although I think it would be thrown out of court under the 'dirty hands' concept. The judge surely wouldn't want to reward you in this instance?"  
  
Simon sat down in his chair with a huff. Then he slumped. "What am I going to do?" he said to himself.  
  
Blair looked at him curiously. "What's the problem? Why not go out and buy more cigars? Maybe not a Cuban, but your usual brand."  
  
Simon sighed. "I've already used my monthly cigar budget. I promised Daryl I'd limit how many I buy."  
  
"Okay, but you must have some at home you can bring in."  
  
Simon shook his head. "No, I don't smoke at the house any more. The last time Daryl came home, he said it smelled like an ashtray. He offered to pay to have the house scoured and my clothes dry-cleaned."  
  
"Ouch."  
  
"You know, I don't drink, I don't gamble, I never cheated on Joan--this is my only vice."  
  
"Yeah," Blair said softly. "It's just that, as vices go, it's pretty bad. I know Daryl's approach is a little abrasive, but I'll bet he's just worried about you. Maybe while you're waiting until next month to buy more cigars, you could try the Nicorette. I understand they make patches now."  
  
"Nah, part of what makes it satisfying is having it in my mouth." Blair sniggered. "Keep your mind out of the gutter, Sandburg."  
  
"Well as long as we're being honest and all, chewing on a cigar is pretty gross-looking. Why not try lollipops? It worked for Kojak," he said with a grin. "Maybe go for the sugarless ones, so you don't rot those lovely choppers."  
  
"Shit," Simon said, the reached into the humidor and pulled out the package. He opened it and popped a piece of gum in his mouth, grimacing at the taste. "I guess, for better or worse, I'm quitting today. I'd still like to know who that thief is. Maybe I should put a camera in here--"  
  
"Ah, let it go, Simon," Blair interrupted, giving him a slap on his back. "When you're not dying of emphysema, you're going to thank your lucky stars for whoever owns those sticky fingers. Good luck with the program. Be sure to let me know if you want me to write up that report," he said with a laugh as he left the office.

  


*****

  
  
  
Blair shook his head as he watched Daryl plow through two cheeseburgers and an order of chili fries, washing it all down with a milkshake.  
  
Daryl looked a bit defensive. "Hey, I'm a growing boy," he protested.  
  
Blair snorted. "But growing which way? Anyway, you're old enough to make your own decisions. But since your dad's willing to quit cigars, maybe you could commit to a salad once in a while. It'd be ironic if he lived 'til ninety because you helped him quit smoking but you died from clogged arteries at forty."  
  
"Forty? That's so far away." At Blair's look, he added, "Okay, message received."  
  
Blair took a bite of his turkey and avocado sandwich and moaned in satisfaction. "I love this stone-ground wheat bread. This is a great little place."  
  
"Yeah, the owner is my friend's mom. She bakes the bread fresh every day."  
  
Blair took a drink of iced tea, then asked, "So, where are they?"  
  
"In Mrs. MacIntyre's garden."  
  
"Your neighbor?"  
  
"Yeah, she says there's all kinds of good uses for tobacco. She soaks it in water and sprays her patio to keep away spiders. And she throws some down gopher holes. She swears they hate it."  
  
Blair laughed. "That's great."  
  
"Yeah, as soon as Rhonda gave me those things, I went right over to Mrs. M. I didn't want Dad to catch me with them."  
  
"And she won't let it slip?"  
  
"Nah, she laughed when I told her about the conspiracy. She's hoping Dad will give up smoking, too, even though it means she'll buy her own tobacco for the garden."  
  
"Well, he roared for a while, but he started chewing the gum. I think he finally gets how much it's bothering you."  
  
"I feel bad that I used to get him cigar accessories, like that humidor. I feel like I contributed to his addiction."  
  
"Daryl," Blair said seriously, "Your dad smoked cigars before you were aware of how bad they were. It's understandable that you'd want to give him something that pleases him." He shrugged. "You know better now, and we did what amounted to an intervention, even though it was a secret one. I just can't believe you talked Rhonda into boosting those cigars. She's got hidden depths."  
  
Daryl grinned. "She couldn't agree fast enough. She's worried about his health, too. Besides, she became like another mom to me after that time with Kincaid." Blair nodded somberly. He'd been right in the middle of that siege himself, and it was terrifying for everyone.  
  
"Anyway," Daryl continued as he raised his glass, "Here's to a successful strategy. Hopefully Dad will stay quit."  
  
"Amen," agreed Blair as he clinked his glass against Daryl's. "Next goal is to get him to do a little exercise." The co-conspirators drank to that thought, then began to plan their next tactics.  
  


  
~~the end~~

 

**Author's Note:**

> A "five-finger discount" is a slang term for shoplifting or petty theft.


End file.
